


Sympathy For The Devil

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-19
Updated: 2008-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: A challenge involving a possessed Sam with Dean and John, Non-consent in the making.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: Sam is not fully in control,but he's getting there.  


* * *

**Firelight flickered to the walls, casting eerie and long shadows. Sitting just to the side of the hearth, Dean Winchester was holding an old book in one hand and a beer can in the other. He licked over his lips, wishing the beer was in a frosted mug and he was in a proper bar. Not being all domestic and doing research. By himself. Sam had taken a hard roll down stairs the night before during a standard demon clean out. Now the lanky Winchester was sleeping it off upstairs in the cabin’s loft. How Sam fit in a loft was another one of God’s little mysteries. Dean was trying to find the meaning of a symbol they’d found blood-scrawled on the demon nest walls, but so far he was coming up empty. No closer to knowing than he had been hours ago when he first started cracking into the books they borrowed from Caleb. He released a jaw-cracking yawn and heard rustling upstairs. Dean did not look up as he flicked an old brittle page to the side, drawling, “You feeling as ugly as you look?”**

**Sam did not answer, gliding past Dean to walk to the front door. He closed it, softly turning the lock. He stood silhouetted in the meager light, seeing the night outside. He would know when John returned to them, that big beater of a truck he drove. Sam glanced to Dean, seeing how earnestly his older brother was studying. Dean really wanted to nail Azazel. It was deep seated in Dean Winchester to bring down their mother’s killer and somehow emerge a perfect little family. What was left of it. It would be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic. Dean’s little dreams. Sam leaned to the wall, running his eyes over Dean, from the gold flecked hair, to lashes too long for any man, lips pouting as he was deep in thought. A body made for hard sudden use.**

**“You really think I’m ugly?”**

**The question made Dean frown and laugh shortly. He closed the book and set it aside. He opened another text and shook his head, wondering why Sam was yanking his chain.**

**“No, you’re beautiful. How’s your head?”**

**Sam smiled slowly and walked over to Dean, snatching the book from his brother’s hands and throwing it into the fire. Instinctively, Dean lunged for the book, seeing the pages going up in multi-colored flames. He was shocked by Sam’s act and swore a blue streak, starting to reach into the fire. Sam’s strong arm crossed over Dean’s throat and he was being lifted and drug back, body arched as Sam manhandled him. Dean tried to break the hold but it was like wrestling with stone. Sam was immovable, almost cutting off Dean’s air supply as he writhed in confused anger.**

**“S-Sam… Sam… what…?”**

**Sam turned sharply and dropped to his knees with Dean, purposely moving his large body over Dean’s, pinning him. He heard the panting breaths Dean was struggling to make, and he licked over the side of Dean’s cheek. Dean stilled and shook his head in a valiant effort to escape that tongue tracing his cheekbone.**

**“Sam stop… Get off me…”**

**“No, Dean. I’m tired of playing with you. Watching that cocksure walk. Your smug fucking face every time you get in my way. You think you’re invincible? Not as long as you keep playing nursemaid to your own worst enemy…”**

**Sam drug Dean’s arms up and behind him, tying his wrists securely as the muscles of Dean’s arms bulged in painful protest. Inside of Sam, deep down, the real Sam Winchester was yelling in protest. He was beating his hands to a cage made of bone and blood, not able to even control his body’s movements enough to wiggle his little toe. All he could do was watch, wishing he could make it stop. It was like a living nightmare seeing Dean being hurt. Hurt by Sam’s body. What was there like a cold breeze inside his soul. A demonic energy that had slept inside of Sam since his birth. Awake now, swimming to the surface after the night before. Like a moth in pupa stage, Sam had slept cocooned in blankets as the demonic blood stirred in his veins, boiling to wakefulness the aspects of himself he could not control in dreams or fantasies. But now? To see himself this way? Sam wanted to die of shame and revulsion. His body was aroused, showing in the line of his sex grinding to Dean’s upturned ass. Sam screamed in impotent fury, not wanting this.**

**His face was buried in the rug as Sam was over him, tying his wrists high at his back, the pain icy-hot as he struggled to his bindings. Dean turned to press his cheek to the floor, eyes wide and panicked. Sam was possessed. Taken over. The symbol had to be doing something to him. Causing this fucking sadist to come out and play. Dean opened his mouth to reason with Sam, to tell him he didn’t mean this, to think his way through it- if even to stall Sam. Dean’s words were cut off as surely as his tshirt was being torn off of him with the flash of his own Bowie knife. Dean reared up and Sam pushed him back down, whispering to the infuriated captive.**

**“Hold still. I’ll let you know when I want you to fight me.”**

**“Sam. Listen to me. You have to stop. You aren’t a puppet. You can knock this thing outta you…”**

**Sam laughed and it was neither warm nor familiar. He wielded the blade and hacked into the back of Dean’s jeans, the taut material hissing apart as Dean yelped. Sam let out a low breath of interest seeing the firm, taut curves of Dean’s bared ass. How perfect and sweet those round cheeks were, even as they flexed in the man’s twists. Sam tilted his head to the side.**

**“You just have to make this harder on yourself, don’t you Dean?”**

**Whatever Dean might have said, it was lost when Sam clocked him hard in the side of his head. He was out like a light, slumping heavily to the floor. Sam was not one to waste time, demonically enraged or not. He stripped Dean completely, making himself wait to explore what he found. The temptation was there, but Dean was still a hunter and there was no sense in getting ambushed while parting those legs to have a better look. All in due time.**

**Sam lifted Dean and carried him to the kitchen table, throwing him down on his belly. He took particular pleasure in firmly tying each of Dean’s legs to the legs of the sturdy table, making sure his prize was not going anywhere. Dean’s arms were lowered and then draped over either side of the table, a thick rope binding them just out of sight. What a pretty picture Dean made that way. His cock was pressed between his belly and the table, but Sam did not doubt he would have time to get to all of Dean Winchester when he wanted to.**

**He walked around his bound brother and felt himself get hungry to hear Dean again. That voice that was whiskey and smoke, curling around each word in a thoughtless caress. Sam pulled off his shirt and then the pants he was wearing, one hand lazily jerking himself. He was hard just from the view, but he wanted Dean awake for the best parts. No short-changing the bastard. How to wake him…?**

****


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Sam presses his point.  


* * *

**Dean’s lips parted on a soft groan as he felt the impossible. His eyes were closed and consciousness returned as he was lifting his hips mindlessly feeling an incredibly good sensation over his cock. He shuddered and then bits of his memory came back, falling into piece and causing him to go tense. Awake now. He jolted fiercely, finding himself tied down and open, a freaking hand working his shaft like he was being milked. A long finger was up his ass, touching something inside of Dean that had him panting and hissing. Felt so good. So wrong, but so good.**

**“Welcome back, Dean…”**

**Sam.**

**Whispering to him like they were fucking. Like they ever touched this way. Dean could not get free of those coaxing touches, but he was not completely defenseless.**

**“Stop… Sam… Stop. You don’t want to do this. Even for us, this is fucked up. What do you want with him? Some master plan, right? For the greater evil or whatever?”**

**Sam was sitting at Dean’s back, long body resting to a chair pulled up close to the table, availing himself of Dean’s prone and bound body. Even unconscious Dean had gotten hard enough to hammer nails once his little hole was played with. Now he was jerking in Sam’s taunting hand, a fine flexing to his lovely ass cheeks as he was playfully penetrated. Sam smiled at the words, finding it endearing Dean was still trying to ‘handle’ the situation.**

**“Dean…”**

**He crooned the name, twisting his embedded finger nice and slow and hearing Dean’s teeth click together.**

**“I’m not killing you. Isn’t that something to be happy about…? We’re just having some…down time. Everyone needs to take a break now and then. Doesn’t it feel good? Or do you need a little more? Another finger? Is that what you want? Your hungry little sexmouth want more?”**

**Dean ground his teeth and could barely think as it was. This was insane. John was due back and to find this? To see Sam this way and, him? Fucking fuck. Dean was grasping at straws, his resources seeming pretty limited about now.**

**“What I want is your hands off me. You’re not my type…”**

**True. Dean liked curves and a nice bouncy set of tits. Not this. This was light-years from his chosen outlet. He heard Sam chuckle and it sounded like Sam. Pure Sam, making it worse to hear at his expense.**

**“I’m everyone’s type when they’re tied down, Dean.”**

**Sam rose and saw how the sound of his movement made Dean tense, as if that did any good.**

**“You tell me, Dean… you only like the boy girl flavor? Is that right?”**

**“Yeah…God…stop. Yes….”**

**Sam breathily laughed and bent his head to kiss the dip of Dean’s back right above the golden curves of his ass.**

**“Let me cater to your need then. That’s no problem. You can be my girl, Dean. I’ll take good care of you…make your pretty boy-pussy cum so hard…”**

**There was no mistaking the raw sound that came from Dean’s mouth at the dripping hot words, even as he tried to force them from his mind his cock was wetly kissing his belly, seeping in appreciation. No. He could not get off on this. He had to…**

**“Want me to lick it, Dean? You want me to get you nice and wet? That’s what you need, isn’t it?”**

**“No, Sam…no…”**

**But Sam’s finger was already sliding free of him and then those big hands were cupping his cheeks, parting him, holding him open. The bound man let out a strangled purr as Sam’s long tongue was lashing over his tiny hole, getting him soaking wet. Touching over sensitive nerves and making him writhe like a cheap whore. Wriggling into him until Dean was sure he was going to die of how good how bad it was. Sam was eating him out and there was no talking now, no way to ignore it. Dean was panting, his harsh breaths not loud enough to block out the wet sounds and Sam’s unrepentant moans. God. Please. Dean begged but could not have said what for exactly, the maelstrom of sensations overwhelming.**

**Sam loved the feel of Dean’s helplessness. That descent into need that obliterated all the taboos and walls Dean tried to place between them to escape this act and how it effected him. He stroked over Dean’s ass cheeks, squeezing and lifting as he tongue-fucked his captive into a quivering slave.**

**“You taste good, Dean. Sweet pussy on you. So wet. I feel welcome…”**

**He stood and pulled his tongue free of Dean, watching the way Dean pressed his hips to the table top. The precum smeared tabletop was hardly what Dean needed to get off but it was something.**

**“Awwww, baby… don’t worry… I’ll get you there… in fact, that’s all I want right now. Pop your cherry before Daddy comes to interrupt.”**

**Dean was in hell. He knew he was a twisted son of bitch for not being able to talk Sam out of this, for having rode Sam’s tongue like a drunken prom date. He had never been penetrated before by so much as a tongue or pinky, always so in control of even the most casual union. Always held the reins. This was bizarre and forbidden. How was he ever going to make eye contact with Sam again? His thoughts were torn into as Sam was holding him open and he felt a hot blunt object rubbing to his star.**

**“SAM!”**

**The yell was choppy but that was understandable. Sam was more than adequate in size and all of it was going into Dean. Every pounding thick inch was making Dean stretch, take, accept. Dean yelped at the painful intrusion. He shuddered under Sam, those big hands absurdly sweet to his sides and hips like an apology, as if Sam wasn’t the one fucking fucking him. Dean ached and throbbed, closing around Sam like a vise.**

**“Shhh… shh… it’ll be good, Dean… you’ll like this part. Trust me. I won’t break you for nothing. You’ll love it…”**

**Dean growled and tried to reject Sam with his body, which only hurt and made a guttural moan leave his brother.**

**“Feels good, baby, squeeze me like that, Dean. Use that boy pussy to jerk me off…”**

**Sam glided in and out of Dean, using some of the lube thrown on the table to grease his cock as he exited Dean before pressing deep again. Every long blood-flushed inch of Sam was thrumming and being massaged by the sweet piece under him. Tightest fit he had ever had. He groaned at the flashes of pleasure rocking him, not missing it when Dean moved to meet his claiming cock.**

**“Like that, baby? Mmm I can feel you do. You needed it… needed to be used just right…”**

**Dean was damned. He had to be. There was sanctuary in the pain of his first penetration by Sam’s cock. When it hurt, he could deal with it. That was acceptable, to hurt, but this liquid rush of fuckmefuckmefuckme was not. It was so good it defied his morals, what he believed to be right or wrong. He groaned sluttishly and felt tears prick his eyes. Tears of need. He wanted to cum. Desperately wanted to cum. He rocked back to Sam and could not stop his hips from twisting, trying to seat more, keep full and rubbed just that way.**

**“Sam…Sammm… please…”**

**Sam smiled and slowed his pace, slitted eyes drinking in the sight of Dean this way. Knowing the moment the door opened and John was standing there. Seeing what Sam had laid out for him to witness. The Golden Boy, Dean Winchester, being slowly deliberately fucked by his black sheep brother. Sam turned to smile to John, malicious sensual glee in his tilted eyes.**

**“Hey Dad… want some?”  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**John took his time walking in on his boys, his attention was fixed on his cell-phone as he texted Bobby about the demon nest. John had stopped by to have a look at it, seeing a symbol on the walls he didn’t know. Worth snapping some shots of and sending to Bobby. John never believed he was the end all on everything paranormal, but he had seen a lot. It was rare to see a true symbol of power he did not at least have some idea about, even if it was hastily spray painted or written in blood over the walls of an old house. Bobby’s reply came back a few seconds later, ‘Checking on it. Let you know.’ John closed his phone, stowed it in his pocket and reached for the door of the cabin. John unlocked the door, wondering if the boys were sleeping. But, no. He heard them before he saw them. Opening the door just drove home the pure shock radiating through the elder Winchester. He was flat out staring, framed by the doorway as his disbelieving eyes ate up the scene before him, sparing John none of the details.**

**“ Hey Dad… want some?”**

**Sam was inside of Dean. A bound to the table Dean, held down under his younger brother, being slowly worked in and out of. John’s hand gripped the doorframe and he started to back away. He was not prepared to see this. To see Dean and Sam both naked, sexual, hard bodies rubbing together. Penetrating and being fucked. The father’s eyes shot to Dean in shock and saw the anguished dark flush of desire on his eldest boy’s face. Dean was barely able to look at him, a blush seeming to work all over his body.**

**“This….can’t be…”**

**John whispered the words like he was waiting to be reassured and agreed with, the world might return to normal if he just gave it a second. Sam laughed low and bent over Dean to kiss his brother’s shoulder, bite there hard as he met his father’s eyes. Dean yelped and Sam felt his brother’s ass tighten all around his cock in the best way.**

**“Oh, it is, Dad…I guarantee you…it is. Dean wanted to show me why he’s the blue ribbon all star…and I have to say. I get it now. I see why you love him so much.”**

**Sam’s eyes glittered with cruel heat as he heard a muffled sob from Dean. Dean could not bring himself to talk, the degradation combating with lust inside of him. His father seeing his humiliation should have blanked out all the rest. Should have freed him from wanting Sam to get him off, but no. Dean still wanted that horse cock to move inside of him. He might be damned for it, but he was so keyed up, Sam got him so close. Now Sam had stopped moving, just those throbs inside of Dean to remind him of the pleasure so close. What could be, if Sam chose to give it. Dean clenched his teeth to keep from making another sound.**

**“You see…Dad… Dean decided… he was tired of waiting on you. He wanted to get some real bonding in. I decided since he was always there for me… when you weren’t… I could return the favor. But now that you’re here, there’s no reason to leave you out. Take out your cock…”**

**John realized then that his boys were not having some affair. They had not been fucking on the side for awhile and just kept it a secret. Sam was reacting to something ‘other’ and this was… a hostage situation. Of sorts. John closed the door behind him and held up his hands as he let his pack slide to the floor.**

**“Sam, I need you to listen to me. I know you can hear me. Whatever’s got hold of you, you can force it out. You don’t want to hurt Dean…”**

**“I’m not hurting Dean.”**

**Sam responded as casually as he would if asked about the weather.**

**“I’m fucking him… and you might want to do what I say before I decide to hurt Dean . Real bad. Then you’ll really be in a bind won’t you? No more little soldiers for you, John. So play nice. Play by my rules and everyone gets to walk away… Aww, don’t look so sad. It’s not like you’ve never noticed Dean before. He’s beautiful. You know he is. So pretty his own daddy taught him to use that face and body to get by when he needed to. You sent Dean out and told him to never shy away from offering himself up if it was for a job. Oh maybe not in so many words…but he learned all you suggested. Knows how to take one for the team to work a case. You knew looking at him that your boy was going to do you real proud.”**

**John felt like his feet were nailed to the floor under him. Sam’s words were twisted but not entirely false. That was the bitch of it. John had told Dean early on not to forget every weapon in his arsenal. Charm. Good looks. That ‘I might fuck you’ smile. Dean had those things in spades and John had noticed. He had admired his son and always been proud of him, but now? He was seeing Dean like this and it was distorting John’s mind on what Dean was to him. John was no stranger to men. He had fucked a couple in his time as the need took him or the hankering- but none could equal Dean in beauty. That rare balance of masculine and feminine met in Dean’s features, he and Sam both walked that fine line that was not androgyny, but rather a highly defined level of male strength refined with female sensuality. Not feminine in the least, they still drew the eye and sparked desire. John had never coached Sam to be as overt as Dean, thinking Dean could see to that bit of tutelage- but Dean had skipped it. Dean had never told Sam to use his body or face to seal a deal.**

**“I can hear those grinding wheels.”**

**Sam whispered the words and then he smiled to John.**

**“Do I have to get nasty about this?”**

**The knife at John’s side tore loose of his belt and hurtled across the room to Sam’s outstretched hand. Sam’s fingers closed around the hilt and he smiled so sweetly to John.**

**“See this? First I’ll cut Dean open in ways no one can patch up…and then I’ll start…here…”**

**Sam tapped his own throat with the blade’s sharp edge, scraping hard enough that it raised a deep red line that colored with blood.**

**“You tell me, John…play game A where you’re getting off…or game B where you’re suddenly not having boys to check in on? What’ll it be?”**

**John stepped closer, meeting Dean’s eyes, seeing how they blazed green fire.**

**“Dean, I’m so sorry…”**

**Dean looked at his father and hissed as Sam rolled his hips, causing that big cock inside of him to churn and flex. Dean wetted his lips with a quick lick, wanting to make it better for his father. Erase that look of desperate concern. He decided to use on John what he had used on others for so long. Dean relaxed his body, going slack before he smiled to his father like a two-dollar lay.**

**“Don’t be. It’s alright… can’t help it. Relax… touch me… it’s what he wants. Just do it… I’ll live…we’ll all live… do it…”**

**John was at a loss and then Dean’s voice was hitting him like strong whiskey on fire. Getting him hard even if he should not be. He was looking at the sulky sweep of Dean’s lower lip and the flicker of his tongue as Dean said it was alright. John cupped Dean’s cheek and stared at him before he was crouching down and softly kissing Dean. Sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth and catching his surprised chirp at the contact. Sam was moving in Dean again, making Dean’s face rock to John’s during the forbidden kiss. When Dean sucked at John’s tongue, the older man had trouble breathing. Dean was acting like his father’s tongue was a cock, provocatively mimicking what could be happening.**

**A dark ripple of pleasure worked through Dean and he knew he was so going to hell a few times over. All he ever seemed to crave was his family, closeness. Something strong and solid to believe in. He could help John with this. Show him the way out so that whatever was controlling Sam would not snap on them all. Dean made love to his father’s mouth and then drew his head back enough to throatily whisper, “Dad…s’time… have to… just let me suck you… make it good, I promise…” Dean’s words were broken as the spot inside of him was being methodically rubbed by Sam’s cock-head.**

**John got to his feet and tried to ignore the deeply pleased smile Sam shot him as his hands were at his belt. Then his zipper. John wrested his cock free and was shamed at how hard he was, purplish in need. He lifted his shaft towards Dean’s waiting mouth and then had to expel a gust of air as he was sucked in. Dean was not playing coy at this part, John being taken in so rapidly. Dean was drawing at his thickness as best he could with his limited mobility. John cupped the back of Dean’s head and groaned, slicing into the willing mouth taking him.**

**Sam caressed over Dean’s lower back and down his sides, not moving his cock now as he watched John sinking into Dean’s face. John was not protesting now. No soft apologies. John was getting his cock sucked and looking at Dean like he could not have asked for better. Sam growled in his extreme delight and resumed fucking Dean. He loved how Dean lurched and flowed under him, now meeting him. Sam slammed down and Dean lifted up, wanting to cum. Needing it. Sam reached under Dean’s body and grabbed his captive’s cock. So slick from Dean’s leaking, the shaft swelled in Sam’s grip, painting Dean’s belly profusely as he came. Dean orgasmed between the two men taking him and writhed, wanting Sam to stop pumping his cock. It was too tender now, but Sam did not stop. It hurt so good.**

**John was fully erect as he watched Dean’s face during his son’s climax. He almost joined him before he was shoved back. John gasped, his dick ripped free of Dean’s mouth as an unseen hand pushed him away from his son. From those parted swollen lips that still sucked air a second after they were left.**

**“Wh-what…?”**

**Sam smiled at John’s protesting tone of being denied. Definitely a case of protesting too much. At first.**

**“I’m going to cum. I need Dean’s…full attention…and then you are going to cum… fucking him… fucking up into him like you want to.”**

**Sam punctuated his words with savage thrusts into Dean, knowing how sensitive Dean was now and loving it. Those breathy shrieks would make an angel need to have a cigarette. Sam forced himself deep into Dean and then he was exploding. Spilling every drop before he fell over his sweaty brother’s back. Sam licked the salty sheen of Dean’s skin and nuzzled his face there a moment before he withdrew.**

**“All yours, Dad… go ahead… he’s so ready for you… seed him…”**

**John was on Dean before he could even formulate any excuses or apologies. He was too close to cumming to stop now. Dean was his too. Dean wanted him to finish it. All of those fledgling thoughts were dust in the wake of seeing Dean’s ass sucking him in. Tightest fit John had ever felt and then, ah God, Sam’s cum greasing over him as he plowed to and from Dean. So good. John gripped Dean’s ass cheeks in his hands and rutted him as he heard his eldest boy groaning whorishly. Dean was meeting him, pressing back, rubbing like he was in heat. John did not last long. He was spewing into Dean as his son was crying out under him, cumming again from the extreme stimulation. Dean and John were both panting like winded racehorses when they heard a large crash. Like a tree had fallen. John moved his head to the side, seeing Sam lying crumpled to the floor. Down for the count. John whispered, “Sonuvabitch.”**

**Dean seconded that but aloud said, “Untie me?”**

**“Yeah…God. Sorry. Hold on.”**

**John withdrew from Dean as gently as he could before taking the knife Sam had set aside to the tabletop. He cut Dean free and then they both looked at each other before John colored deeply.**

**“Get dressed. I’m tying Sam up…”**

**“He’s possessed, Dad…-”**

**“Yeah well… gagged too…”**

**Dean dressed, his frame still trembling from the sex, the excruciating high and taboo of their union. All that had transpired over his body. He watched John bind Sam and then his father was dressing rapidly, like clothing made it all go away. They dressed Sam last, taking the time to clean themselves up and Sam- once they were sure Sam wasn’t getting up or free.**

**“Dean…”**

**Dean shook his head to his father as he was checking Sam’s arms for any binding marks or sulphur. “Don’t, Dad. I understand. I was there too, alright? Let’s just take care of this…”**

**John tried to form a reply but his phone was buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it free and saw it was Bobby.**

**“What’ve you got, Bobby?”**

**Bobby was brisk over the phone, not aware that John had just been fucking the daylights out of his son.**

**“Demon mark was one of Azazel’s. A really old Enochian mark to be exact. It goes back to Azazel’s specialty. Lust. He was like the first rufie angel, you know what I’m saying? Could turn wives from their husbands, make people or animals do whatever he wanted as long as they had lust in them to work with. The mark specifically is kinda like a big bang for the libido of a demon. That nest you found? It was a breeding ground. Any demons in the place were pretty much in heat and going to stay that way until they were satiated.”**

**John’s eyes went unerringly to Sam’s prone form before he asked. “Once they’re sated though? Is it done?”**

**“As long as they’re away from the mark, yeah, but it’s be best to burn the place down. All the way. Never know who might wander in and get all fired up.”**

**“Yeah. We’ll take care of it.”**

**Dean waited until his father was off the phone to ask any questions. After John related all that Bobby had shared, Dean asked what mattered most to him.**

**“Is Sam going to be okay?”**

**“I think so. He’s… sated.” John shook his head, hardly able to grasp all this. It was a lot to process and keep a game face on. “I’m going to go burn the place down and salt it after. You stay here with him. Test him with holy water. Make sure it’s Sam…”**

**“Will do.”**

**Sam awoke mid-morning of the next day, lying on the sofa with one leg off the cushions and on the floor. He lifted his head and saw Dean sitting across from him in the chair facing the sofa. Sam blinked and then grumbled, “What’re you starin’ at?”**

**“You.”**

**“Well cut it out.”**

**Sam sighed and then pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair.**

**“I am starving.”**

**“I just bet. Work up an appetite did you?”**

**“Huh?”**

**Dean could see, plain as day? Sammy did not remember a damned thing. He wanted to smack his brother. He wanted to yell at Sam and tell him every lurid detail. Part of Dean? Even wanted to ask Sam if he had ever had not so brotherly thoughts in his head. Instead?**

**“Let’s pack up and hit the Subway on the way outta town.”**

**“But Dad…”**

**“He’s been and gone. We settled up the demon love shack and we’re moving on. Haul ass, Sam.”**

**Sam watched Dean packing up and rose to his full height, stretching before he was smiling to Dean and getting a curt ‘what’ for his grin.**

**“Nothin. Just thinking I feel…really good, you know?”**

**Dean’s eye roll was par for the course, but Sam just chalked it up to moodiness. Dean must need to get laid.**

****


End file.
